Culpability and Assent
by grayautumnsky13
Summary: A Split Queen Trilogy that begins just after Regina splits herself from the Evil Queen. Robin lashes out when the Evil Queen hurts Regina; and he can't understand how the people who love her allowed her to do this to herself.
1. Chapter 1: Unraveled

His hand is loose around hers but his jaw is tense, and each rhythmic beep of her heart monitor has his shoulders tightening and his stomach churning. It's so difficult to look at her this way—cut and bruised with tubes in her mouth and nose, looking so fragile and small in her hospital bed—looking so unlike herself.

"Regina, love," he murmurs as he leans down and kisses the back of her hand. "I'm here…"

He presses his eyes closed as his forehead rests against the back of her hand—he hadn't wanted to leave her that evening, but she'd insisted—she had a headache and wanted some quiet time. She'd smiled gently through hooded eyes and asked him to take the kids to Granny's for dinner—and when he reminded her that she shouldn't be left alone she'd scoffed and reminded him that she could take care of herself.

Two weeks before, she'd been in New York. Since returning from the Underworld, Henry had grappled with magic—it's luster having faded after seeing so much of its dark side. He'd set out on his own to rid the modern world of it and to protect his family from it—and Regina and Emma had quickly followed, taking Snow and Charming along. Robin had been glad to stay back with Roland and Esme—New York held too many painful memories—and Regina had promised a quick return. He never thought he'd regret not going back—yet, here he was and he was full of regrets.

When she returned she'd told him that Evil Queen was gone—and her smile broke his heart.

Everyone agreed that it was a good thing for her, that she was better off this way—that she could finally be free of the demons that haunted her, and she could finally be happy. But the Evil Queen wasn't gone—the Evil Queen was simply no longer contained inside of her. And all of her anger and her need for vengeance, her deep-rooted hate and self-loathing was unleashed and it was directed at the one person who'd betrayed her most—Regina.

They'd been at the diner when they'd heard the sirens. Roland had knelt up on the booth and watched the ambulance speed down Main Street, and when Henry's eyes met his, he felt his stomach drop—and then a moment later a chill ran down his spine as his cell phone rang. It was Emma. Regina had been attacked and he felt his world beginning to unravel.

He's barely aware when a nurse enters—but at the faint sound of her voice, he lifts his head, catching just enough of what she's saying to know that they have to take her for some tests and they'll let him know when he can come back in. He nods as he drops one more kiss to the back of her hand, letting his lips linger for just a moment—and then he watches them take her.

Normally, he's able to keep his emotions in check and normally he's able to stay in control. He's always been good at weighing consequences and looking at situations from varying perspectives, always one to let logic prevail. He's calculated and he's careful. In the years he spent raiding carriages and robbing castles, he'd always had a plan—he'd always known what to say and how to say it and he most certainly never let emotion jeopardize himself. Yet when he sees them all sitting there in the waiting room—looking so worried and distraught—his anger begins to bubble to the surface. Had it not been for them, none of this would have happened.

He turns away, not wanting to make a scene, but Charming's voice stops him.

"How is she?" He asks, as Snow looks up, her eyes wide with concern. "How's Regina doing?"

For a moment, he says nothing—he just stares and wonders how long it took them to inject her, how long it took them to suggest the serum, how long they'd waited for this opportunity. "She's still not awake," he manages to say, trying in vain to keep his voice even, though he feels himself beginning to unravel at the seams.

The Charmings exchange glances. "Have the doctors said anything?"

"No," he replies curtly. "They'll know more after these tests."

"This is so awful," Snow says with a sigh as she slumps back into her chair and Robin watches as Charming turns his attention back to his wife. "Poor Regina…" he hears her murmur.

His jaw tightens and he hesitates for just a moment, again thinking back to that night in New York when one of them had suggested she rid herself of the Evil Queen. He closes his eyes and tries to regroup, but instead his anger only deepens because when he closes his eyes all he can see is Regina lying in her hospital bed, and he can't help but think had it not been for that night, she wouldn't be there.

"Was it worth it?" He hears himself ask as his eyes slowly open. "Was she really that different?"Both Snow and Charming look up and Killian and Emma turn, and the four of them exchange glances. "Was this really worth it?"

"Robin," Snow murmurs as she rises to her feet. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Regina. I'm talking about how you encouraged her to split herself…"

"She wanted to," Snow interjects halfheartedly.

"You're not actually blaming her for this," he says in voice that's so cool that it's unsettling. "You wouldn't…"

"She agreed to it," Snow says cutting in as she takes a step forward as her head tips of the side. "Robin, this was supposed to bring her peace. She..wanted it to happen."

He scoffs and looks away as he takes a short breath. "Of course she did. She hates her herself." When he looks back at them, he shakes his head and fells his hands beginning to tremble. "But, I…I sort of hoped that her friends and family cared more about her than she does."

"We do care about her."

"Ah, yes," he cuts in as glares at Snow with hardened eyes, "So much so that you wanted to destroy half of her."

"Without the Evil Queen inside of her…"

"You do know that the Evil Queen isn't actually a separate entity. It's who she was. Sure, she's changed, but as much as everyone tries to pretend it isn't true, the Evil Queen is Regina and Regina is the Evil Queen. They're one in the same." The Charmings exchange glances and he wonders if it is actually possible that they don't understand. "I know that Regina has hurt you…"

"She spent years hunting her," Charming says, his voice piquing defensively.

Robin nods, "Yes. I know."

"You can't be defending that! Regina wouldn't even defend that."

Again, Robin nods and his heart clenches. "But who defends Regina?" He looks between them and again, they exchange glances and it infuriates him that they don't understand. His eyebrow arches and he feels his cheeks flushing with anger. "You can't honestly stand there and defend your choice. She's unconscious. A tube is helping her to breathe. They're scanning her brain right now. Yes, she struggled with the darkness that was in her and yes she has to live with the regret of what she did, but this was not the way to help her." Shaking his head, he scoffs. "But why shouldn't I be surprised. You did the same thing to your own daughter."

"Wait a minute," Emma says, finally cutting in. "That was…" she sighs—even she doesn't believe what she's about to say. "That was different."

"Was it?" Robin counters as his voice rises, not really caring if his words sting. "Or is it possible that the people who walk around this town preaching love and hope and courage don't know a damn thing about any of it!"

"And what do you suggest we should have done?" Snow asks, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Love her anyway," Robin says, his voice softening as a sad smile stretches onto his lips and he thinks of Regina. "When you care about someone, you don't just care about the parts that you like and when you love a person, you don't just love the parts that are easy. You don't get to pick and choose. You just love them—all of them." He shrugs his shoulders. "When it's hard, you still love them. When they make it difficult, you still love them. And when they ask you to do something you know could hurt them, you don't do it because you love them."

Taking a breath, he watches as the others exchange glances and suddenly, he feels hot tears welling in his eyes. From the window, he sees the nurse walking toward him and he turns away without saying anymore. The nurse smiles kindly and he nods, taking a breath as he tries to keep his tears at bay. She leads him back to Regina's room and when he steps in his breath hitches in his throat—her eyes are still closed and the tubes and monitors are still there. Her gown is positioned a bit differently and he can see that there's a purple bruise with bloodied scratches running through it. It's just beneath her collar bone and just above her heart. He moves toward her and again, he takes her hand as he sits in the chair beside her bed. He traces circles with his fingertips into her palm as his thumb rubs up and down her index finger. And as difficult as it is to look at her like this, he can't look away.

"I'm here, Regina," he tells her in a hushed whisper as his tears begin to fall. "I'm here and I love you." He knows that she can't respond, yet the silence is too much. He gives her hand a tight squeeze as his face crumbles and his tears start to fall—and finally, he unravels.


	2. Chapter 2: Acceptance

He starts to say her name as he enters the room, a cup of steaming tea in hand, but his voice halts when he spots her and a smile tugs onto his lips instead. He treads quietly toward her, setting the cup down onto the table at her side as he sits beside her, pulling the blanket up around her and gently brushing her hair from her eyes.

It doesn't matter that it's the middle of the afternoon or that they'd been preparing for a quiet Sunday together or that this is the first bit of alone time they've had together since she home from the hospital. He's glad to let her sleep because he knows better than most that she hasn't been doing very much of that lately, that most of her attempts last no more than an hour—and once she's awake, she's awake, and there's little to nothing that he can do to calm her.

Though she doesn't like to talk about it, she's been having nightmares—and though she's always struggled with sleep, it's never been quite like this. Before, she'd startle in the middle of the night and wake up with a start; her heart would race and there'd be tears welled in her eyes, but no sooner than she was awake, she was able to bring herself back into the present. He'd wake up with her, wordlessly pulling her into his arms, and she'd cuddle into his chest reminding her over and over again that whatever it was that woke her, it was gone and it wasn't real. She didn't say much, but after a few minutes her breathing would return back to normal, and slowly, they'd both fall back to sleep.

But now, it wasn't like that—now, she awoke in tears, crying out as her eyes flew open, flinching at even the softest of touches. There were times when she had trouble coming out of the nightmare, her eyes widening with terror as he stroked her softly and tried—usually in vain—to comfort her. And even after she calmed down, she laid awake beside him, unable and unwilling to go back to sleep. Instead, she lied quietly, staring up at the ceiling with wide and fearful eyes, almost as though she's just waiting for their return—because her demons are no longer figments that lived in the deep recesses of her memories. Now, they were living, breathing and tangible.

But her slumber doesn't last for long and only a couple minutes after he sat down beside, she cries out, flinching as she sucks in the air, gasping as her eyes fly open, and for just a moment, she stares at him with terror filling her eyes, staring at him as if she doesn't even know him—and that's likely because even though she's looking at him, it's not him that she sees.

"Regina, love…"

"No, please... no…"

"You're okay, love," he tells her gently. "I won't hurt you."

She blinks. "Robin…"

"I'm here," he says, tentatively reaching out and stoking the back of his fingers over her cheek, smiling when she doesn't pull away. "You're okay. I've got you."

"I… I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"But, I thought you were…"

He nods, as her voice trails off and her eyes sink closed as she takes a deep breath. She doesn't have to say it; he knows exactly who she thought he was—the same person who plagued her thoughts whether she was asleep or awake, the person she both hated and feared, the person she never wanted to be, and the person she fought against daily—the person she used to be.

"It's okay," he tells her again. "You're okay."

She nods as she leans into him, and he pulls her closer, hating that there's nothing he can do to help her. In any other circumstance, he'd hate the person who did this to her and it'd be his mission in life to make them pay for what they'd done. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate the Evil Queen.

Only a few days after she'd awoken in the hospital, after the breathing tube had been removed, Regina had looked up at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks, and she told him she regretted what she'd done—that she regretted separating herself from the Evil Queen—but she didn't regret it because she accepted that part of herself, but because she was no longer there to push down the Queen's urges or protect the people she loved. Her eyes pressed shut, forcing tears down her cheeks as she quietly told him that she'd failed—once again, she'd failed.

And his heart broke for her, all over again.

"I was reading," she begins, pulling her head up and blinking away her remaining tears. "And I just… fell asleep."

"You're tired," he murmurs, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear. "Try to go back to sleep. I'll be right here with you and…"

"No," she interjects, not even willing to consider it and shaking her head as she pulls back and picks up the book in her lap. "There… has to be something in here that can help." He watches as her fingers stroke over a leather bound book. "Or, in one of them…"

"Just for a little while…"

"No," she says again. "I… I need to do this," she murmurs, glancing quickly back up at him. "This is my fight and… and I don't know how much longer I can take this. I just… I feel so helpless." Her eyes press shut and she takes a breath. "And I hate feeling this way."

"You won't be much good to anyone—especially not yourself—if you don't get some rest," he says, trying his best not to sound accusatory or demanding. "Just a couple of hours…"

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't," she tells him, looking back at him as her eyes soften. "I just can't."

"Okay," he says, letting out a breath as he shifts himself forward, reaching for another book on the coffee table and the cup of tea. "At least, try to relax a little, then?" She grins when he poses it as a question, and offers him a little nod as she accepts the cup. "We'll figure this out," he tells her, and again, she nods—but this time, he can tell that she doesn't quite believe him, no matter how much she wants to.

For weeks, they'd been searching for an antidote—be it a spell or a potion—just something—anything—to undo what she'd done to herself in that night in New York. He was glad that it was her suggestion and something she has decided for herself—and he hoped that her desire to bring together the two sides of herself would bring her a sense of inner peace, that she could come to accept her past and by extension, accept herself. Yet, he feared she wanted this for all the wrong reasons, and it pained him to think that she considered herself a burden that only she should have to bear.

As the weeks went on, it seemed that he was right—for her reintegrating herself wasn't about accepting the parts of herself that she didn't like, the parts she couldn't be proud of and the parts that caused her pain, and it wasn't an reconciling past demons. Instead, it seemed to be about protecting everyone else at her own expense, sacrificing her own happiness to shield those she loved from everything she feared, and her penance for the sins of her past. And he hated that she didn't see it as a marker of her strength and resilience, a sign of hope and second chance, and reminder that something good could come from something broken.

"This is useless," she says with a sigh. "I don't even know what we're looking for and even if we do find something, we have to rely on her willingness to… do whatever it is we have to do." He sighs as he looks up, smiling wistfully and wishing there were something he could say, something he could to help. "I just… I never thought that I'd…" Her voice trails off and she looks away. "Never mind," she says as her cheeks flush.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Regina," he begins, closing the book he'd been skimming through and dropping it down between them. She looks back at him and takes breath, and he can't help but notice that she looks guilty—guilty and ashamed. "It's okay… whatever it is, it's okay."

Shaking her head, she once more looks away. "I just… it's still there."

"What is?"

"The darkness, the thing I thought I'd gotten rid of," she admits quietly. "Those thoughts and feelings, it's all still there." She sighs and looks back in his direction, but is careful not to look at him. "This was all for nothing."

"Regina, you're human. You…"

"You know what the worst part of it is, though?" She asks, cutting in as her eyes meet his. "I never thought I'd miss that part of myself… the part of me that caused so much pain for so many people." Shaking her head, she shrugs her shoulders, smiling meekly as tears fill her eyes. "I don't feel like myself, and thought that'd be a good thing but—I just—there's this emptiness and this ache and, I…"

"Oh, love," he murmurs as her voice trails off, and he pulls her into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, not really knowing what to say.

"I shouldn't want to be that person…"

"But you're not," he murmurs. "You stopped being that person a long time ago, long before you removed her from yourself."

"But she was always there and I… I thought…" She takes her head and takes another breath in attempt to keep her tears at bay. "I just thought if I could quiet that little voice in my head that… that belonged to her, things would be better." She presses closer. "But it was just replaced by another one." For a moment, she's quiet, and still, he's not quite sure what to say to her, knowing that he can't fix this or make it any better. "I just never thought it'd be like this."

"We'll figure this out."

"Maybe…" She's not convinced and she pushes herself back a bit, smiling sadly as their eyes meet. "I think I'm going to take a shower. I just feel…" She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Maybe I'll feel better if I do."

"Okay," he says with a nod, standing and offering her a hand. She smiles appreciatively as she grabs onto his hand, letting him help her up and wincing only slightly. "Come on, I'll help you get in."

She nods and sighs again as his arm slides around her waist, holding onto her and guiding her slowly up the stairs. He knows that she hates this—that she need assistance to the most basic of things, that she can't be self-sufficient and that everything has to be done slowly—but nonetheless she leans in and kisses his cheek as a thank you when he helps her out of her clothes and turns on the water, grabbing her some towels as she twists her hair up into a clip. He slides back the shower doors and takes her hand, helping her into shower.

"It's only temporary, love," he murmurs as he lets her go. "All of this is only temporary."

She nods, understanding that he's talking about more than her lack of mobility—that he's making yet another promise neither of them are sure that he can keep, but both want to believe in for very different reasons.

"I just wish…" she beings, looking away as her cheeks once more flush and she sighs. "Never mind."

"Call when you need me, okay?"

She nods as he slides the glass door shut and goes back to the bedroom. He leave the door cracked, and falls back on the bed, closing his eyes for just a moment, wishing more than anything he could offer her more than empty reassurance or that at the very least, he could help her to accept herself for who she is—and for who she was—and help to understand that the darkness didn't take away the light.

And then suddenly, he gets the sensation that he's not alone. Slowly, he sits up—and there she is, leaning against the dresser, watching him with a curious expression.

"You were right," she says as her smile twists onto her lips. "This is temporary." A little tingle runs down his spine as he takes her in—she's Regina, but not and she's standing there in black, tight-fitted dress with her hair wound up atop her head. He takes a breath as he eyes linger over her, and he knows that he should hate her for what she's done to Regina, both physically and emotionally, but he can't bring himself to do that because she is Regina. "Only one of us is going to survive," she adds, laughing a little as she pushes herself forward. "And I always win."

"I disagree," he says as he rises to his feet, watching as she sizes him up. "I think there's hope for both of you."

"Hope," she scoffs. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Thief." She leans in and he can feel her breath on his lips and a small smile etches onto his lips. "There's no such thing."

"Again, I'm going to have to disagree."

"You know, disagreeing with me is a dangerous game," she says, stepping even closer so that they're chest-to-chest. "And I don't appreciate being underestimated."

"I know," he tells her with a little laugh, his thoughts shifting to Regina and her underlying determination regardless of the task at hand. He thinks of her fortitude and strength, and he thinks of all the times she's overcome insurmountable odds, flourishing against the impossible and taking pride in it. "I would never underestimate you," he tells her as his shoulders square. "I know better that that… M'lady."

She growls as her brow creases and a rage flickers behind her eyes—reminding him so much of the mask she wore when they'd first met in the Enchanted Forest. He thinks of how bristly she was, how quick she was to lash out, and he thinks about how it had all been nothing more than a carefully crafted façade she used to protect herself—and he can't help but think she's doing just that again. "It's Your Majesty."

"Right, of course," he says with an easy little nod as her jaw tightens, clearly annoyed by his unwillingness to back down and his obvious amusement to her annoyance. "You know," he begins as smile twists onto his lips. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, you should be," she replies with a mechanical laugh. "You really should be."

"Is that so?"

He hears the shower turn off and the glass doors slide open—and suddenly, he thinks of Regina, her desperation and disappointment and suddenly, he has a flicker idea that's just crazy enough that it might actually work, that it might actually be the magical fix they'd been searching for. Looking back at the Evil Queen, his eyes narrow and he remembers something Regina said earlier about the Queen's willingness—and he wonders and suddenly, it doesn't seem all that crazy. He reaches out and brushes the back of his fingers against her cheek, watching as her dark eyes widen and she lets out a shaky breath, unnerved by his touch but unable to recoil—and his smile deepens, realizing he has the same affect on the Evil Queen as he has on Regina.

He takes her hand and she hisses, but doesn't pull away. "I've never been afraid of you," he tells her as he rubs his thumb over the back of her wrist, and he thinks of how reluctant Regina's always been to accept love and her steadfast belief that she was somehow unworthy of it—and how ultimately and perhaps ironically, it was love that saved her from the darkness. "Quite the contrary, actually."

"You don't love me. You can't possibly."

"But I do…"

"You love her," she tells him, her eyes darkening as they meet his.

"I do," he says with a nod. "I do love her. I love all of her, even the parts of her she thinks are unlovable—even you." He brings the back of her hand to his lips and kisses it softly. "I've held your heart in my hands and I've felt it beat…"

"So you know how black it is," she growls, closely eyeing his fingers at her wrist and once more making no effort to pull away. "You know exactly what I'm capable of."

"I do know what you're capable of," he agrees, looking up at her and only seeing Regina and understanding that they're one in the same. "And I know how resilient you are, how deeply you feel, how intensely you love…"

"You don't know anything," she manages to say in a voice that's suddenly hoarse.

"But I do—I know you," he murmurs as he leans in. There's a flash of something in her eyes—something familiar, but something he can't quite place, and it makes him wonder if he should pull back. It's not lost on him how quickly this could go awry, how effortlessly she could turn the tables and char him to a crisp—but then there's that little flicker of something as his fingers fold down around hers, tugging her closer as his other hand sweeps against her jaw. Her eyes widen with mild alarm at his tender touches as a grin pulls at corners of his mouth when her eyes finally settle on his lips—almost as if daring him to continue. So, he takes small breath and leans in the rest of the way, taking her lips in his, sucking gently—and almost cautiously—at her lips. His tongue traces the seam of her lips, pushing between them as she takes a step in—and then suddenly, her hand is in his hair, pulling him closer and pulling him deeper as she kisses him back, kissing him with a passionate craving.

And then suddenly, there's a flash of something between them…and then once more, the kiss changes.

Her lips soften against his as the kiss slows down, and she sighs as her hands slide from his hair to his cheeks, her fingers rubbing against his stubbly cheeks as her hands settle on either side of his face—and he swears that he can feel her smiling.

Slowly, he pulls back, and when does his breath catches at the back of his throat and his eyes grow wide because it's no longer the Evil Queen standing there with him, but Regina—his Regina, blinking back at him with a dazed little grin.

"What… just happened?"

And he's not entirely sure—it had all happened so quickly, and he wasn't even sure that it would work—but as he stares back at her, he slowly realizes that it did. His smile deepens and he reaches for her hand, giving it a little squeeze. "I think… I think that was a True Love's Kiss."

"You… kissed the Evil Queen."

"I kissed you."

"And she… turned into me?"

"I… I think so," he says as Regina nods and he watches as a small smile edges onto her lips, and she laughs a little, her hand settling on her stomach as her eyes sink closed. "Regina, do you…"

"I can feel her," she tells him, the relief evident in every voice and in her eyes. "I feel like me again."

"So, she's…"

"A part of me again," she says, almost breathlessly as she smiles and the relief so evident in her eyes—and then, he sees it, that alluring flicker of fire that had left her when the Evil Queen had—and he smiles, too. He's glad to have her back. Her arms link around his neck and he pulls her close, nuzzling against her. "Thank you," she murmurs, her voice hitching in her throat. "Thank for loving her." He only nods and presses a kiss to her hair—glad that she's finally able to acknowledge and accept that even the worst and darkest piece of her is deserving of love.


	3. Chapter 3: Forgiveness

Regina closes her eyes and takes a breath, tears brimming as her hands body trembles.

She can feel the Queen's presence–her darkness–spreading through her, cutting through her like a sharp blade. It started at her fingertips and spread up through her veins, pulsing through her as it filled her. Her chest clenched and her head fell back as it pierced her heart, stabbing at her core–and then, she felt a wave of relief wash over it.

Slowly, she breathed in and out–and the hollowness that she'd almost gotten used to was gone, filled in with all of the things she'd hoped to cut away when she'd ripped that part of herself out. And when her eyes open, Robin's standing there–standing just in front of her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She can practically see his heart's rapid beats and the thoughts of wonder racing through his head–and for a moment, she doesn't quite understand because a moment ago, she'd been standing in the mirror, wrapping a towel around herself as she stood in the mirror, looking at a person she barely knew.

Swallowing hard, she looks at him, their eyes meeting–and he looks as dazed as she feels.

"What just happened?"

He blinks a couple of times and she wonders if he too could hear the change in her voice–and when a smile tugs onto his lips, she knows that he did. Taking a breath, he reaches for her hand, giving it a tight and victorious squeeze. "I think…. I think that was a True Love's Kiss."

Her fingers touch to her warm lips as she momentarily looks away and her chest flutters as she looks back to him. "You kissed the Evil Queen?"

"I kissed you."

"And she… turned into me?"

"I… I think so," he says, his voice a little unsure–but Regina nods and a smile begins to pull onto her lips and soft laugh escapes her. Taking a breath, her hand settles on her stomach and her eyes sink closed–and she feels a flicker of guilt over the relief she feels. "Regina, do you…"

"I can feel her," she breathes out, the relief evident in her voice. "I feel like me again."

"So, she's…"

"A part of me again," she says, feeling that once-familiar fire rising at her core–a fire she's fought to keep tampered down and under control, but always manages to bubble up and remind her of who she is. Taking a breath, she steps forward and her arms fold around him. "Thank you," she murmurs breathlessly, pressing herself against him. "Thank you for loving her," she adds as he hugs her a little tighter–and once more, tears brim in her eyes.

She feels him nod before he steps back, laughing a little as he looks her up and down, then takes her face in hand, cupping her jaw as he stares into her eyes. "I missed you."

"I… missed me, too," she says, her voice a bit sheepish as she steps back and sits on the edge of the bed. "I never thought I would," she admits. "You know, when I started to… try to figure all of this out, I just wanted her back inside of me so that she wouldn't hurt anyone. I… I didn't really want…"

Her voice trails off and he nods, understanding what she can't quite admit out loud. She looks up at him a bit awkwardly as she fumbles with her hands and tries to collect her thoughts, trying to figure out what exactly it is that she's feeling and how she can possible put that into words.

"Hey," he breathes out. "How about I go warm up that tea and give you a minutes?"

"Thank you," she nods. "I'd like that."

He offers a warm smile before retreating into the hallway and down the stairs. Letting out a shallow breath, she falls back against the bed and stares up at the ceiling, and the tears that had been welling in her eyes, seep from the sides.

It's hard for her to process what she's feeling and even harder to process why she feels this way. It feels like relief, it feels like acceptance, and though she hadn't realized it, for weeks, she'd been in mourning–she'd been mourning the piece of herself she'd long wanted to be rid of, the part of herself that caused so much pain and suffering, the part of herself that had gleefully done unthinkable things. She regretted cutting that part of herself out and whenever she'd closed her eyes, she saw her the heartbreak in her own eyes as she crushed the queen's heart. At some point, she'd realized she'd done for everyone else–splitting herself had never been for her, it was about paying back a debt she'd owed in the only way she knew how.

Everyone told her she must have felt so relieved and she'd agreed that she was, but that couldn't have been farther from the truth. Though she hadn't vocalized it, she'd accepted herself and her darkness–that didn't mean she liked it, it was simply a part of her as much as any part was. She regretted the choices she'd made, she regretted hurting the people she'd hurt and, for a long time, she'd hated herself. But somewhere along the way, that changed–she'd worked through it and found ways to compartmentalize it. She'd taught herself to love again–first with Henry then with Robin–and she'd learned to channel the darkest parts of herself into something that most would agree was positive. She used it to fuel her determination and every desire, she used it to fight through things that seemed impossible; she used it to defend the town she'd built and to better the lives of those who depended on her, and she used to to protect her family–and slowly, she began to realize her darkness wasn't all bad, she's not even sure she can call darkness. That, whatever it was, could be used for good.

The only problem was, she'd realized all of that too late.

She lifts her head as Robin enters–and a smile tugs onto her lips as she pulls herself up and he sits down beside her and hands her the tea. She takes it and her fingers rub against the hot porcelain mug–he'd been the only person who hadn't had to learn the hard way. She takes a breath and sips the tea, and smile as his arm stretches around her shoulders–she doesn't have to thank him, he already knows.

Her eyes sink closed as she breathes in the honey and lavender of the tea–and she knows that it's finally time to move on–to leave the past in the past and finally forgive herself.


End file.
